And, having driven in the four brackets, or staples, and closed
the door, I took up the bars and showed her how they were to lie
crosswise across the door, resting in the brackets.
"We shall be safe now, Peter," said she; "those bars would
resist--an elephant."
"I think they would," I nodded; "but there is yet something more."
Going to my shelf of books I took thence the silver-mounted pistol
she had brought with her, and balanced it in my hand. "To-morrow
I will take this to Cranbrook, and buy bullets to fit it."
"Why, there are bullets there--in one of the old shoes, Peter."
"They are too large; this is an unusually small calibre, and yet
it would be deadly enough at close range. I will load it for
you, Charmian, and give it into your keeping, in case you should
ever--grow afraid again, when I am not by; this is a lonely
place--for a woman--at all times."
"Yes, Peter." She was busily employed upon a piece of
embroidery, and began to sing softly to herself again as she
worked,--that old song which worthy Mr. Pepys mentions having
heard from the lips of mischievous-eyed Nell Gwynn: "In Scarlet town, where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin',
Made every youth cry Well-a-way!
Her name was Barbara Allen."
"Are you so happy, Charmian?"
"Oh, sir, indifferent well, I thank you.
"'All in the merry month of May
When green buds they were swellin',
Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay,
For love of Barbara Allen.' "Are you so--miserable, Peter?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you sigh, and sigh, like--poor Jemmy Grove in the song."
"He was a fool!" said I.
"For sighing, Peter?"
"For dying."
"I suppose no philosopher could ever be so--foolish, Peter?"
"No," said I; "certainly not!"
"It is well to be a philosopher, isn't it, Peter?"
"Hum!" said I, and once more set about lighting my pipe. Anon I
rose and, crossing to the open door, looked out upon the summer
night, and sighed, and coming back, sat watching Charmian's busy
fingers.
"Charmian," said I at last.
"Yes, Peter?"
"Do you--ever see any--any--men lurking about the Hollow--when I
am away?" Her needle stopped suddenly, and she did not look up
as she answered: "No, Peter!"
"Never?--are you--sure, Charmian?" The needle began to fly to
and fro again, but still she did not look up.